FYI – I'm writing this week's Tonka's Week whilst listening to You Wanna Fuck Her by MC Ren on loop.
<> All this fuss about Skateboard P and Robin Thicke, eh? Who gives a shit? It was a good song. The Marvin Gaye song that they sampled some of the back ground noises from was good. The Marvin Gaye Estate is fucking loaded. Skateboard P is loaded. Robin Thicke is loaded. Who gives a fuck about any of them getting any more money than they already have and who gives a fuck if some money gets swapped around between them after the verdict? I don't give a fuck and neither should you because it means nothing. The songs are still there and they'll never be deleted or forgotten.
Also, Manu, the lyrics to Skateboard P and Robin Thicke's song don't incite or glorify rape any more than I’m doing now, and if they do, they're the most subverted fucking lyrics in history. Anyway, that T.I. verse was the worst and nobody bangs on about him.
<> Nasty Nick is back on the Square…Albert Square...on the telly. The bloke who plays him is a shit actor but he’s fun to watch. He’s properly abusive all the time and everything he says is an attack. It’s great.
Nasty Nick's ma, Dot, thought he was dead because she thought she'd been at his funeral a few years ago. It turns out that Nasty Nick's son, Charlie, paid the local undertaker to plant a dead body in a spare coffin and pass it off as his dad to fool his nan that her son was dead. Nasty Nick had actually changed his name to Reg Cox (which is the name of a bloke he killed in the very first episode of Eastenders) and fucked off to Spain with several tens of thousands of pounds after screwing a local gangster over, I think. I wasn't listening to that bit properly so don't hinge too much on what I said about the money.
The last I saw was Dot, Charlie, Nasty Nick and the tea lady off of Father Ted having an argument in Dot's living room about who Dot should call the police on whilst Fat Boy nursed a Halloween hang-over upstairs. I'm playing catch up with Tuesday and Thursday night's episode, so don't tell me what happened.
<> Fuck me, did you read about that American bloke who wants to film himself being eaten alive by a snake? What a show off! He's a show off who I now hope gets digested by an anaconda live on the telly. People like him have got nothing better to do than think up stunts like that to get attention. Honestly, if there's one thing that makes my blood boil more than the Chubby Funster out of Mixmag, it's American men who want to be on the telly for getting eaten alive by a massive snake whilst wearing a snake-repellent suit.
I hope that snake goes chomp-chomp on him and winks at the camera.
<> This time next week, ladies and gentlemen, I'll be warming up for Atomic Jam in Birmingham. It's bound to be a great night because of just two things: 1) I'll be signing copies of the world famous Weekly Review of Dance Music on the side of the dance floor between 12am and 12.30am for two pounds a pop, 2) my very dear friend, He/aT is DJing and buying me drinks throughout the night and 3) I've been approached on Twitter by a bloke who's also going and, guess what, he's a boiler expert!
As you all know, the boiler at WRDMHQ is on its last legs. I have to go up in the loft every afternoon to reset it. The control panel in the kitchen is brand new so it must be something to do with the actual boiler. I'll be mining @NathanWarrilow for tips and will be negotiating HARD with him for a new boiler system. I'm not leaving Atomic Jam without a highly competitive, 'mates rates' quote for a brand new boiler system.